


The Patronus artefact

by Finnylein1991



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Patronus, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 08:23:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20503862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnylein1991/pseuds/Finnylein1991
Summary: 5 years have passed since the war. Draco had moved on, or so he thought. He had a hobby, a more or less simple routine until Harry Potter accidentally stumbled into his life to mess everything up.I am so bad at summaries D:





	The Patronus artefact

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all. Please read:  
This is my first english ff (I am not a native speaker). I planned this to be 3k long, now it has 13k words D: It was supposed to be a short story to start getting into writing again, but well .... you know how it is.  
I don't have a beta, so you might find many mistakes. I know I lack a lot of words, so please don't be harsh on me :,)
> 
> Have fun reading.
> 
> ***

It has been five years. Five years since the war. They said it would get better with time. _Time will heal all your wounds. _

Bullshit to all these pseudo life quotes that whole and content people put in little frames on their walls to show that they are having _bad _days, too. Draco huffed loudly and decided it would be time for a break. Exhausted he leaned back in his old wooden chair, rubbed his hands over his eyes, as if this could take away his tiredness.

However, his tiredness rested deep in his bones, engraved in his soul. He went on to stretch his hands, cracked his joints, an old habit, and stretched his back, which hurt horribly. He has been leaning over the desk and working on this object for several hours now, but he finally managed to remove all foreign particles from it. The room he was sitting in was dark, cold and only lit by a few candles. Dust was lingering in the air, implying that the room hasn’t been cleaned in years. Hidden in the dark were old bookshelves and cabinets hemmed along the walls. The whole room was picture less and radiated a more disconcerting atmosphere.

The desk Draco was sitting on was huge. The wood showed the same dark color as the floor. In front of Draco laid a dark artefact out of his father’s collection.

It resembled a small flagrant lion made out of wood. While the small statue was quite detailed, there was nothing special on it for the untrained eye. Yet, if the light of a Patronus shines upon it, the lion is supposed to become awake and reveal its secret. At least this is what the hieroglyphs on its backside are stating. Draco has been trying to summon a Patronus for the past few weeks. Unfortunately, he couldn’t recall any memory happy enough to succeed.

“Yeah, fuck this,” he mumbled to himself, stood up and crossed the room. Speaking out loudly – another habit he had acquired the past 5 years. But in his defense: the old Malfoy Mansion was very huge and very quiet. His father had left Narcissa and him 2 years after the war. But who could blame him? He was broken and the only thing that kept his mother and his father together was the love for … Draco? Why keeping up an image, if the name _Malfoy_ has been dragged though the dirt anyway? His mother had changed completely, even before his father had left. She stayed in this house, worked in the garden during the day and knitted in the nights. A turn, Draco would have never expected. But the war has taken a toll on all of them. His mother was happy, that’s what he thought. He found her smiling, when she took care of her plants, found her humming and in peace when she was knitting and couldn’t find any sorrow in her voice when they talked about _that_ time. He took the stairs up to the ground floor, where fresh clean air met him.

He took in a deep breath to fill his lungs with fresh air, which flooded in the entrance hall through the wide open standing door that lead to the garden. His mother was outside – of course. It was a sunny day in London. _How rare, _Draco thought.

“Ah, Draco, honey.” his mother just entered through the door. “Look at you. You have been locking yourself in for a whole night again.” Her soft hands touched his checks. Even though she was working in the garden every day, she valued the cleanness and softness of her hands highly. While she could protect herself with a simple spell, she adapted the habit to wear common Muggle gloves. _‘It’s better for the plants’ _ is what she had said. Draco’s jaw tensed slightly and his eyes glanced away from her out of the windows. Indeed, the sun was still rising. He had been working on the artefact for a whole night. Again. Well, ‘worked’. He wasn’t sure for how many hours he had just been staring at it, reliving old memories, traumas, and processing thoughts. As much as his hobby dragged his mind off, it also dragged it into a deep dark place.

“Are you going to get breakfast?” Narcissa asked while removing a few lose hairs out of Draco’s face.

“Yes, as promised,” he gave her a tired smile, moved out of her hands and stepped into the bathroom to get his hair and his clothes in order. His hair had grown long. He hated it. He decided to cut it short, once he was back from getting breakfast. For now, he tied parts of it to a knot. His eyes didn’t look as tired as he expected. Maybe he was getting used to his ‘not-sleeping-routine’ after all. It took him hardly five minutes to get ready before he left the Mansion to find the closes bakery.

The past years, Draco had been getting fresh bread every morning. It was a 20 minute walk to the bakery. He was sure, that his mother only asked him to go get him out of the house. For fresh air. He was also sure, that she knew he knew. But he did it anyway. More for her than for himself. Many times, the walk had helped him to order his thoughts and to get the fatigue out of his bones. He walked during all kinds of weather. Even during the snow storm they had last year, but he mostly enjoyed it when the sun came out. Today, the air felt different. Draco took a deep breath, turned around to see if he was followed, but – of course – no one was there. He huffed and went on to the bakery without stopping a second time.

***

“Thanks,” Draco grabbed his bag of freshly baked bread, exited the bakery and could only walk a handful of steps when the world made its most ironic turn.

  
“Draco?” a surprised sounding voice asked. Draco didn’t stop, didn’t turn around. He wasn’t even sure if his brain processed the situation at all.

“Malfoy? It is you – Hey.”

The sound of his last name made him finally stop and turn around just to face someone he wasn’t prepared to. In front of him stood the boy wonder himself – the savior of the world. _Harry Potter._ Draco’s heart suddenly felt way too heavy.

“Potter,” he dully spoke, as he met the green eyes in front of him. To his surprise, Harry looked … older. Different. His hair was the same brown mess, his smile was as positive as ever – how annoying – but he had developed a slight sense of fashion and apparently grew a few centimeters taller than Draco. What an unpleasant surprise. He was holding on to a huge bouquet of white flowers.

“Wow, how are you doing? What are you doing in London?” the Gryffindor asked as if they would be old friends. They weren’t.

  
“I don’t have time for this Potter, nor interest,” Draco replied coolly. He should just walk away, ignore him, but they were older and grown up now, weren’t they? Funny to say. _Older and grown up_ – as if the age would make the different and not the bloody war they lived through. Not just the bloody war, they managed to survive, also the time after. He remembered, that _they_ let all children leave Hogwarts after the last year at school. No offered medical advice, not follow up on anyone, not _caring _for anyone. As far as Draco knew, three of his classmates had taken their lives. Harry was still standing in front of him and also Draco didn’t move yet.

He took in some air before he spoke again:

“For Ginny?” and nodded towards the flowers.

“These? No, no for my parents. Ginny and I didn’t work out in the end,” Harry admitted. He did love her. He still does … maybe … in some sort of way. A different kind of love. They had moved in together after Hogwarts, but Harry had realized soon, that he fancied the friendship they had. Not relationship. He loved the closeness to a person, he loved laying in her arms and he loved the feeling of finally feeling safe, home. However, this was a different kind of love. It was not romance, not desire or the wish to spend the rest of his life with her. Ginny had taken it bravely. They were still friends and met sometimes to keep their friendship up.

Draco furrowed his brows. “I thought your parents died at Godric’s Hollow?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged and didn’t respond for a while, insecure if he should share personal details with Draco. But then, why not? What does he have to lose? “I recently found an old diary of my mother, stating she always loved a certain place in London, where she spend Valentine’s Day with my father. I started to bring some flowers every now and then,” his voice grew tighter and tighter towards the end. Then he smiled. He was happy overall. More or less. And he was happy to see a familiar face. Especially as his contacts to his former friends had grown a bit thin over the last years.

Draco just watched in silence. Potter did lose a lot even before the war, while Draco suffered later. Suffered still. He clenched his fist around the bag. His over analyzing mind was horrible. Why would he care, how Potter is doing?

“And you?” Potter gestured vaguely towards the bag of bread.

“For my mother,” he answered bluntly. “I have to excuse myself now,” He was just so tired of these shallow polite conversations.

“Yeah, ok. It was nice seeing you,” Potter smiled, then left in the opposite direction.

Draco stayed and watched him for a moment. It has been 5 years. He hasn’t spoken to anyone ever since. He didn’t even had the courtesy to say ‘thank you’ to Potter for defending his family in court. Without him, they all would have gone to Azkaban. A tremor went through his body, before he returned back to the Mansion. The conversation had been unpleasantly awkward, still he couldn’t stop thinking about it on his way back.

Once home, he had breakfast with his mother, took a long hot shower and decided to sleep before he would carry on with the artefacts. Maybe it was time to search for a real job. The Malfoys had more than enough money saved, however, he had realized that his health began to suffer under his hobby. He missed dinners, he missed regular sleep and he definitely didn’t had a real conversation with anyone in months. His mother didn’t count. But was a common job really what he wanted? Or needed? As much as he tried, Draco couldn’t picture himself working in an office, at a bank or as a teacher. He whole-heartedly liked taking care of the dark artefacts. They didn’t bind him to his desk, sometimes, the artefacts brought him on small adventures, leading to hidden magical cities, revealing long forgotten spells or replaced lost pieces in the history of wizards and magic. He shared the most interesting dark artefacts with the ministry of magic. On the one side, because he saw no benefit in hording them secretively in the basement. On the other side, he felt guilt with all the damage his family had done. Giving back important information and pieces felt like redoing a little bit of this damage.

A while ago, the ministry of magic had offered him a job. They asked him to hand over the already “solved” pieces and share his findings on a monthly base. The payment was high – as the fame. All new findings would carry his name. But Draco had declined. Honestly, he couldn’t remember why. Actually, his past 5 years all seemed like a massive blur.

His mind lingered on Harry for a while before he went to bed. Not because he was personally interested, but because it was the only thing out of order, that has happened the past months. Even if sleeping and working irregularly was not a routine per se, it still had some kind of order in itself. Harry Potter didn’t fit in there.

Why was he in London? And how did he go on after Hogwarts? And why was he smiling as if nothing had happened? “Was he not allowed to smile?” he mumbled to himself. In the end, he won the war. Draco did win as well, they all did. But sometimes it felt as if he had lost. He lost his family, his fame, his status. He also lost perspective. He lost the things he thought were worth fighting for. His glory. His family’s status. His traditions. Draco’s idea of the world had changed back then. But he didn’t find a new one by now.

***

The next few days stayed the same. He worked on the dark artefacts, tried to summon his Patronus and failed again and again miserably. Hence he started to work on another piece. However, the Patronus artefact kept on occupying his mind constantly. He could have asked his mother, but he didn’t want to see her face in case she was not able to summon a Patronus herself.

The piece he was currently working on was an old parchment scroll protected by numerous spells. It took Draco the whole week to figure them out, but the result was worth it. The scroll was written by an ancient king. Kind Frégir was set to have invaded a neighboring country and started one of the most tragic wars in the magical history. However, some historians suspected that _he _was invaded and the truth was veiled. This scroll wouldn’t answer this question, but it would definitely play a part in the big puzzle. Maybe he should hand it to the ministry of magic and reconsider the once offered job. The work would be the same, he would just get payed and needed to share his work in detail. But on the other hand, they would most probably hand him many new artefacts. By now, he had been working on artefacts, that his father collected. He didn’t go out searching himself. He wouldn’t even know where to start.

Maybe it was time to get a fresh breeze of air.

***

Draco stepped into the ministry of magic of London. He had an appointment with Mr. Hensyorn, the head of the ancient and historical research department. He was too early and already annoyed by the especially ugly house elf, who led him to a small open waiting room in a long corridor. “It won’t be long, Mr. Malfoy. I will inform Mr. Hensyorn about your arrival.”

“Thank you.”

Draco nodded, sat down and waited. It didn’t take long until a too familiar face passed by, stopped and immediately sat down in front of him.

“Draco?” Potter asked. Draco definitely preferred ‘Malfoy’.

“Well, obviously, Potter,” Draco spits through gritted teeth. He looked up for the first time and met Potters’ way too friendly gaze. He was definitely dressed as an Auror. “You work for the ministry?”

“Yes. What are you doing here? This is the waiting room for Mr. Hensyorn. Well, normally.”

“It is. I am bringing in a dark artefact.”

Potter instantly seemed interested, even leaned forward a little bit. “Oh, I’ve heard about these. Is that what you have been working on? Do you work here, too, then?”

“No, I don’t have a job. It’s a hobby,” he admitted. Draco wasn’t sure, why he told him all this. But what did it matter anyway? Why keeping up an old grudge, when Potter clearly had moved on. Didn’t he know better by now? Maybe this was the last time he ever saw Potter in this fast changing world. Maybe it was time to gather his strength and say the ‘thank you’ that was lingering in his chest for years. Draco opened his mouth, “Now that I see you, I wanted – “

“Mr. Malfoy?” Mr. Hensyorn poked his head around the corner. “You can come in now. Ah and greetings Mr. Potter.”

Potter returned the greetings before Draco stood up and followed the middle aged man in his office. Well, he tried to say ‘thank you’, but fate had other plans. _Fine … _Draco shrugged and sat down in an ancient wooden chair.

The meeting was non spectacular. Draco shared his information of the latest dark artefact including a report he had written a day before. Mr. Hensyorn mentioned how much Draco’s finding would help the ministry of magic and if he would not reconsider taking the job offer and this time he did. He left the office not more than 2 hours later with a signed contract. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. But it’s not like he owns the ministry anything. If he didn’t like it – he would quit. “Easy,” he mumbled to himself.

***

Weeks passed. Even if Draco had an official work, nothing had changed. The strict routine and order he had hoped for didn’t came. He did try working during the day, mainly for his mother’s sake, however, the second he got lost in another artefact, he forgot about time and basic human needs like food. He had pulled an all-nighter again. Draco rubbed one hand over his eyes. A helpless attempt to get rid of the weariness. The morning air was cold. “Summer in England, huh?” he mumbled to himself, when he entered the Mansion with a bag of, now rather cold, fresh bread. Draco just came back from his usual morning walk to the bakery. His mother greeted him in the kitchen.

“Good morning, love.”

“Mmh-mmh,” Draco hummed and gave her a tired smile. He didn’t like how she had changed.

Is he even allowed to think that way? Draco turned his gaze, started to prepare coffee. The muggle way. His mother insisted. _Pathetic_. What was really left of her? The last sane part left her, when his father vanished. Draco felt an old anger rise up in him, but he buried it deep down where all his other dark thoughts belonged. The doorbell rang, pulling him out of his slow downward spiraling.

“I’ll get it. You expect something? Someone?”

“No, no-one,” his mother placed plates on the breakfast table.

Draco went to get the door. “Maybe it’s the ministry,” he said to himself.

It indeed was.

Draco starred in Potter’s face. His opposite looked rather … disturbed. As if he didn’t expect Draco to open the door. But who did he expect by ringing the doorbell of the Malfoy Mansion? Draco was instantly annoyed.

“Wha-?”

“Work,” Potter immediately interrupted. “Can I come in?”

Draco hesitate. It was an old reflex to be suspicious and reserved. Seeing Potter let memories flare up. Memories from Hogwarts. He was tired of all this rivalry, of all the fights and especially the memories. Draco didn’t know why he felt so haunted and why he wasn’t able to start a normal, a new life. It has been 5 years. Bloody 5 years. When would it start to become easier?

“Look,” Potter started again. He apparently took his silence as an answer. “It won’t take long. The ministry sent me. We cannot talk about this on your doorstep. You can also go to the ministry if you don’t want to let me in your house. Either now, or we can schedule an appointment.” Potter didn’t sound annoyed, he was all business.

Draco huffed. This was childish. 

“Ok, come in,” Draco opened the door a bit wider and invited Potter in his home. The other just gave him the widest smile in response and stepped in. Why does he appear so carefree? Draco couldn’t really put in words, what he felt and especially why Potter’s attitude bothered him. _Jealousy _his mind whispered, but Draco shoved every second thought further deep down. For a second he could smell Potter’s cologne. A heavy woody smell. Not at all what suited him.

“Follow me,” he finally said after closing the heavy door. He wanted to avoid his mother at any cost, so he directed Potter to the only place he knew she would never enter. Down the stairs to the room of dark artefacts. Draco stopped on top of the stairs. “Go down, second door to the right. I will be with you in a sec’. Don’t touch anything.”

Potter shot him a slightly worried gaze, before he answered, “Yeah, alright.”

Draco went back into the kitchen, where his mother finished preparing the breakfast table.

“Who is it, Draco?” She asked while slowly sitting down.

“Someone from the ministry. It’s about work. He wants to talk to me, you can already start without me. I promise it won’t take long.”

His mother gave him a warm smile, “sure. Take your time.”

That was … easier than expected. No questions asked? Draco watched her for a few moments, returning the smile, then he went back to the staircase and down to the room of dark artefacts. When he entered the room, he found Potter leaning over the mess on his desk. The small desk was full of papers, new and old notes about the latest artefacts, he was working on. Next to that he had a few non magical and magical tools to examine or prepare the artefacts. Some of them were still covered in soil or rock. He needed to be careful to not damage underlying runes, when he removed any dirt. In theory, he could use magic to clean the artifact, however, using magic on dark magical artefacts was not the wisest thing to do. Thus, he was working with towels, tweezers and magnifying glasses.

Only now, when Draco came closer he saw, that Potter had picked up the one artefact he had been working on for months. Or years? Has it already been so long?

“Potter!” Draco came closer “I said don’t touch anything. These-“

“Are these the dark artefacts you have been working on?”

“YES!” Draco ripped the artefact out of Potter’s hand and placed it back on the table. “And they are not supposed to be touched,” his voice was shaking from anger. Did he not warn him? Was it something that ran in Potter’s genes? To not follow any rule? Maybe he didn’t grow up after all.

“Come on,” Potter smiled softly. “I know a thing or two.”

“Sure you do,” Draco responded annoyed. Voice dripping of sarcasm. He stood taller, took a breath. _Don’t waste your energy here_.

“It’s very pretty. I rarely see these. What are the runes standing for?” Right, he for sure didn’t want to discuss his dark artefacts with Potter.

“Why are you here, Potter?”

Potter looked at him. Draco needed to look up slightly to match his eyes. He hated it.

“Yeah right. So, look,” Potter started to search for something in his bag and brought a small bundle wrapped in brown fabric in between them. “I am supposed to give you this.”

Draco took the small bundle and started to carefully unwrap it.

“What is it?” But he didn’t need an answer. The more fabric fell, the more Draco felt the magic vibrating. It was strong. He hesitated, before he opened the last piece of fabric.

“You can feel it, right? It’s cursed,” he pointed out. When Harry found out that Draco was working on dark artefacts, he didn’t believe it. He couldn’t picture Draco sitting in a room, lingering over small figures for hours without getting frustrated or accidently destroying it. He wasn’t really sure what he had expected to be Draco’s hobby or job, but for sure not this. However, now, while he was watching how Draco unwrapped the new artefact this carefully with his long fingers, he thought it’s a quite fitting job. Honestly, he always saw Draco as the brutal, aggressive young boy with a career in Quidditch or as an Auror. Harry had to admit that he never gave it a second thought. But Draco had been very good at Portions. He always thought this was due to Snape’s favoritism, but Draco was probably able to carefully weigh the correct ingredients and took a lot of care following complex protocols. 

“Yes,” Draco just answered slowly, completely focused on the small figure in his hands.

“Draco,” he said, but got no response. Draco was listening to the dark call. Harry took the artefact out of his hands, wrapped it back up and placed it on the table, while he spoke. “We found it in a lost house in south England. Legend says the house was the birth place of _Ionas the King_.”

“That’s a children’s story,” Draco finally looked him in the eyes.

Harry shrugged, “Well, the ministry thinks, there might be something true to it. Anyway, they want you to see if you are able to decipher the artefact and of course remove the curses.”

“They were not able to remove them themselves?” Draco questioned. 

“Well, legend also says, that there is only one way to get rid of the curses. It’s practically the first test. If done wrong, the whole artefact will crumble to dust.”

“Why did they send you?” There where thousands of wizards working in the ministry. Potter seemed surprised.

“Is that such a problem? I know a few things about artefacts. I encounter them a lot during my work. This is the last one I found,” Potter explained. “Anyway, this one here,” he pointed to the _one_ dark artefact, “It says light of Patronus. What does it do?”

How the hell, was he able to decipher the runes so fast? It had taken Draco at least 2 hours to decode them. He wasn’t really able to hide his surprise and to Draco’s annoyance he saw the traces of a confident smile on Potter’s face.

“Not yet,” Draco’s hand moved a few centimeters, with the intent to pull Potter away from the table. Preferably even up to the front door. Then he stopped. “Try if you want to.”

“Me?” Potter watched him tentatively. “I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

“You won’t,” Draco picked the small artefact up, held it invitingly in front of Potter. “You summon your Patronus and the light will do the rest.”

Potter’s eyes lingered on the artefact, then they moved back up to meet Draco’s. The whole energy in the room had changed.

“Yeah well-“ Potter began, “I can’t.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I can’t - I can’t summon a Patronus,” Potter admitted, voice growing tight.

“Why?” Draco couldn’t believe his ears.

“Not since the war. Well, not really since the war, maybe a year after,” Potter smiled again and suddenly Draco grasped the façade.

“Sorry,” Potter apologized. “It’s because of the stress or memories. I don’t really know. It was not a good time, right?” His smile finally faded and Draco saw a trace of the emotions below the show Potter had put on. He saw the same pain he was feeling. Draco didn’t know what to answer. He suddenly felt all the weight of the sleepless weeks, the all-nighters and the lack of regular food, exercise and socialization on his shoulders. Silence found them for a few moments.

“Can you show me? Draco?” Potter’s voice cut through the heavy suffocating air in the room.

“Mh? Maybe another time. Thanks for bringing me the artefact,” Draco turned his body towards the door, implying it was time for Potter to leave.

“Sure. You’re welcome,” Potter took the hint immediately and started to follow Draco back up to the front door. The goodbye was short. The second the door closed, Draco returned to the kitchen, where his mother was still waiting for him.

“You waited?”

“Yes dear, of course,” she smiled blankly. Hers was a smile he preferred over Potter’s twisted warm smile.

They ate breakfast together, mainly enjoying each other’s company quietly. Before Draco decided to finish off his day, he headed to the bath to take a long shower. He liked to shower cold, especially after a night without sleep. The second he entered the shower, Potter was on his min.

The fact, that he was unable to summon a Patronus himself made him shine in a very different light. The war had cost Potter a lot as well. Draco involuntary had to admit, that he was not the only one suffering. He just was not very good with coping. He had always expected Potter to marry that Weasly girl. Consequently, he had to be happy. Save the world, get a nice job, and simply be happy. Things he had always attributed to Harry Potter. _Maybe it’s time to take back a few prejudices._ He ran a hand through his blonde hair unconsciously. “Right,” he mumbled to himself and left the shower. It was time to cut it short again. He hated the long hair, it reminded him too much of his father. He could cut it himself, but he preferred a decent haircut, so he scheduled an appointment with a barber for the next day. 

***

It took Draco a few weeks to figure out the dark artefact Potter had brought him. The artefact itself served as a key to a secret door hidden in the house of _Ionas the King_. According to the ancient legend and the stories, the door would only appear on a certain wall if you were made to find it. But that wouldn’t be Draco’s problem.

Draco was currently sitting in the waiting room of Mr. Hensyorn to hand in the artefact.

“Mr Malfoy?” The nearly bald man’s head appeared around the corner. Draco got up and followed him in the office. The usual explanation and handing over process started. The man seemed very pleased with his work. It was until the end, before Draco finally asked the question that lingered in his head way too long.

“Mr. Hensyorn, may I ask? Why did you send Mr. Potter to my home?” The moment Draco heard himself asking the question, he was wondering, why he was so obsessed with Potter. Why did it matter, who is bringing him the objects? Why would he care? But in the end, he did care. He had to admit, that he was obsessed with Potter the moment he met him in Hogwarts. There was something about the boy that annoyed and fascinated Draco equally.

“Mr. Potter? Ah yes, ah well, he found the artefact on his last big raid and brought it to me. The usual way. I told him, that I will let it send to you. But Mr. Potter insisted on bringing it himself. We don’t have specialized people for sending artefacts. Our department is quite small, you have to know. Not much money as a consequence. Didn’t want to send _someone, _if you understand. There are many stories about that artefact – that key. The protective courses appear very easy to break for a common wizard, which would make it quite tempting for whoever is delivering it. But once it’s done wrong, we could lose it completely. ”

“You don’t have anyone you trust in this?”

The man hesitated for a few seconds. “I do trust _him_. Is there a problem? Otherwise, I’d have to schedule an appointment with you everytime we encounter a new dark artefact, Mr. Malfoy.” He spoke slowly and observed how Draco reacted.

“No. I merely asked out of curiosity,” Draco immediately replied, defensively.

“I can let you come in next time as well, if you prefer that.”

“No, thank you,” and with that Draco missed the opportunity to get rid of Potter entirely. But something in Mr. Hensyorn’s voice told him to not make a fuss about the deliveries of the artefacts.

When Draco was passing the huge entrance hall on his way out of the ministry, he noticed Potter passing by. There were only a few meters in between them. Draco slowed down his pace and watched how Potter was talking to a middle aged man.

He indeed looked older. His hair was still the same mess, but he changed his glasses. They didn’t make him look so stupid anymore. He was also not running after the man, as he did with all his teachers, but he seemed to be respected by the middle aged man. What a change in things.

Potter’s cheekbones were prone, probably due to the fact that his face looked thinner. In contrast to that his body apparently finally hid puberty. His shoulders looked wide, his body looked toned. He indeed got older. Draco hardly saw the young boy from years ago in him anymore.

Harry’s gaze suddenly turned towards him and Draco got aware, that he was starring. Potter stopped, smiled, waved and kept on talking to his companion. Draco didn’t had time to react. His gaze followed Harry for a few seconds, then he went outside the ministry.

Harry had some difficulties to concentrate on his colleague after he had seen Draco. He excused himself, to get some coffee, to get some time to order his thoughts. He was not really surprised to find him here. This must mean, that Draco figured out the last artefact he brought him. Draco had been on Harry’s mind for quite a while now. He was wondering how he came to the hobby of working on the dark artefacts and how he and his family have been. Seeing Draco again brought back a lot of memories and thoughts about Hogwarts. Harry found himself imagining himself in Draco’s shoes. How would he have acted? What would he have done, if it was him sitting on one table with the dark Lord and having dinner together as if they were family? Would he have acted differently even if his parent’s life was at stake? It was easy to simply say ‘yes, of course. He would have been braver, he would have trusted Dumbledore or another teacher. He would have made things differently’ but the older Harry grew, the less confident he got.

***

_Breathe in_. Draco’s eyes were closed. He was sitting on the hard floor in his working room. The Patronus artefact was laying in front of him. His hand was clenched around his wand, but relaxed now.

“Come on Draco,” he mumbled to himself. _Breathe. Think of all the good things. Your mother. _But she was barely the same anymore. His whole family, his legacy was disrupted. _Friends. _He huffed. Right. _The new hobby you found. _But dark artefacts can’t bring back happiness. _Simple things. The flowers of my mother in the garden. Breakfast together. Sun after a long period of rain. Things will be good. _Draco opened his eyes.

“Expecto Patronus!” Blue light shimmered from his wand, moved through the air like a wild snake, then faded. Draco grid his teeth together.

“Bloody hell!” He threw his wand away and stood up hectically.

“The fuck with this-“ Draco took a shaking breath, voice shaking. “Bloody hell!” he repeated, clenched his fists. Is eyes wandered around the rooms as if he could find the answer to his problem there. There was so much dust, so much darkness in the corners of the room. He could picture his father placing new artefacts in the cabinets. He could picture the dark Lord walking around this room. His vision became blurry. A second later hot tears started to roll down his checks. There was so much dust. Draco suddenly had the feeling as if there was not enough ai left in this room. It was too crowded by memories, dust, darkness and pain. He couldn’t breathe anymore, his heart was racing, pounding in his ears and heavy in his chest.

_dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom- dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom- dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom- dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom- dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom- dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom- dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom- dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom- dom-dom-dom-dom-dom-dom._

He felt nauseous_. What is happening? _Draco sank down to his knees. He placed his hands in front of him on the floor, bracing his body. A whimper escaped him. _Pathetic_ he thought to himself, but couldn’t make his body stop shaking, couldn’t make his lungs take in air and couldn’t make his heart stop racing. His body was sweating, heart racing, eyes blurry, legs heavy and fingers burning. “Merlin,” he pressed through gritted teeth.

It went away after minutes. Draco sat back in a more comfortable position and wiped the tears from his face. “Shit-“ This was really bad. “This is not good,” He took a shaky breath in and decided to lay down on floor for a few minutes to just concentrate on his breathing. It got better and better until he finally was able to get up. This is all not going any better. He decided to clean himself up and go out for a walk. He always felt better, when he left the Mansion for a few minutes.

***

It has been 4 weeks until he met _Harry_ again. His doorbell rang. Narcissa was in the garden, unable to hear the alarm. It was early in the morning. They had just finished their breakfast, but Draco was still sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea and reading the news. He put his tea down to answer the door, already suspecting who could visit him. It’s not like he gets many visitors …

He was correct.

  
“Potter.”

“Good morning, Draco,” Harry greeted him warmly. “Can I come in? It’s about the ministry, about work.”

“A new artefact?”

“Yes.”

“You can just hand it to me here.” No need to invite him in his house. Draco instantly regretted his defensive behavior. Could he make it any more obvious that he wasn’t able to leave the past behind?

“Of course I can. However, I have to show you something about this artefact. It might be better to not do it at your front door. It will be quick, I promise.”

“Of course,” Draco answered slowly and was surprised how much he sounded like Severus.

Draco hesitated, then stepped aside to let Harry in.

“Thank you. I saw you at the ministry, solved the last artefact?”

“Yes,” Draco closed the door and led the way down to his working room. Harry followed.

“You cut your hair.”

Draco turned around, surveyed him suspiciously, “I did.”

Harry took the hint but just shrugged carelessly. “Thought you might let it grow long like your father.”

“Shut it!” Draco spit a bit too aggressively.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry immediately apologized. “I just noticed. It’s quite a difference.”

“You should take note of your own hair from time to time.”

“Why? It’s not that bad,” Harry smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Draco turned around to escape this awkward situation and to open the door to his working room. Once inside, he lit the room with a quick spell, while Harry automatically went to his desk. He put down a huge back, that he had carried with him. Draco followed and watched him unpack a massive stone, made of marble. The surface of the stone was polished and shiny. Nothing seemed suspicious about it but Draco could sense a strange feeling radiating off the stone. Magic lingered on it. Harry proceeded to unpacking a small set of white stones ranging from 10 to 1 cm in size. All of them were in a different shape. On a first glance, Draco thought the stones could be part of game. Maybe a magical game in some sort of way.

“That’s it,” Harry finished. Draco watched him. He noticed how his eyes lingered on the new artefacts for a few seconds before he saw the Patronus artefact, which was still laying on his desk.

“You know,” Harry began. “I tried to summon my Patronus again, but no luck,” Harry said casually. It was everything but casual to Draco. Harry had just told him, that he was still in such a dark place, that even when focusing on getting better, he could not concentrate on a single happy memory. As far as Draco had heard, Harry’s childhood was horrible, but he was nevertheless able to summon a Patronus during his first schoolyears. Why was he so casual about this? About losing his happiness and hope?

“Did you solve it?”

“Mh?” Draco responded, stuck in his thoughts.

“The artefact, did you finish working on it?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Harry said calmly and met his eyes. “You cannot do it.”

Draco’s heart sunk into his stomach. He looked away for a mere second and gave it away. He cursed himself. “I have more important things to focus on,” Draco was defensive. Harry was the last person he wanted to talk to. He was also the only person he had spoken to in a while, he had to admit. He wanted to turn away and lead Harry outside the mansion, but Harry suddenly grabbed his arm. He was startled by the unexpected touch and pulled back instinctively, but Harry held on.

“What are you doing? This is none of your business, Potter,” his voice was hard, but Harry didn’t let go of his arm.

“I some way it is, isn’t it? I am really sorry,” Harry let his arm go after he spoke.

Draco’s gaze wandered over Harry’s face. Searching for…something. He wasn’t sure for what. Maybe an explanation for this stupid behavior. For the need to talk about this. He wanted to say something rude, rough, but he didn’t manage to come up with anything.

“It isn’t. It’s my business why I can’t summon a Patronus. Who tells you it has anything to do with the war?” But who is he kidding? “You’re not the hero in every story, Potter.”

“This is not about me. I never was. I didn’t want to be the hero, Draco, and I don’t feel like one. The war broke all of us,” Harry’s voice was calm, quiet. Like the smooth water of the sea compared to the storm in Draco’s voice and mind.

“You have no idea, what you are talking about. Very heroic. The hero that doesn’t want to be the hero. Save the world, save his-”

“Draco” Harry’s voice grew louder. He had struck a nerve. “Listen, I didn’t had a good childhood, I was basically used like a house elf. No parents, no love. At the only place where I finally felt wanted and ‘home’, I was confronted with a teacher that hated the very existence of me. I made friends, yes, but I had to deal with so many troubles right from the start. And the heroic war?” Harry spat the words. “I lost so many friends, so many people died and I feel like it’s all my fault. I feel their blood on my hands. And now? It’s over, yes, but I cannot fucking get my place in this world. I am always ‘Oh Harry Potter, the wonder boy. The hero, the one that saved us.’ I am not a normal friend to anyone. The people I knew diverted in the distance and the new people I get to know… how can I trust them?” Harry’s voice started to become low and tender. They stared at each other silently for a few moments. Draco didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t even think, while the words percolated through him.

“I would change, Draco. My life for any ordinary life. In an instant,” Harry said it calmly. “I know it’s not easy or you as well…of course.”

Draco still couldn’t talk. He didn’t want to see Harry as the broken one. The vulnerable one. But he could not explain to himself why. He also didn’t know why Harry felt the need to share this with him. They barely knew each other. Was he really so desperate to have someone listening, that he took the first chance? Draco didn’t want to believe that.

“I don’t think I am the one that should hear your words. I am the wrong person to talk to,” he finally managed.

Harry took an audible breath, smiled slightly. “Yes, maybe. Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Haven’t talked to someone in a while.”

Draco’s gaze moved over Harry’s face, down to the dark artefacts, then again back to Harry. “Potter, just because we went to the same school and lived through the war, doesn’t make us … friends. Or anything like that.”  


“I know,” Harry replied immediately as if he was expecting this answer. “I know. It’s just nice to talk to someone without explaining anything about how … things were and what exactly happened.”

_He does have a valid point._ “I can’t imagine you being tired of telling everyone you saved the day.” Draco didn’t know why he wanted to provoke. During the last years he turned out to be slightly destructive. Indirectly. He did the same now. Harry offered himself as a potential friend, and while Draco had been slightly obsessed with Potter since the first year in Hogwarts, he started to push him away. Especially now, when he turned out to be a decent, rational and attractive person.

Potter’s expression slightly changed. “Really?” he sarcastically asked. “Don’t forget I saved your family as well.”

“I didn’t really asked for it, you know.”

“Well then,“ Potter replied harshly. “Excuse me.”

The atmosphere in the room grew thick immediately. “You should leave.”

“Yes, I should better be going.”

They started to walk towards the door at the other end of the room. Draco placed his hand on the doorknob, opened it slightly, but Potter spoke before he could open it entirely.

“Your family would have ended up in Azkaban. Even you, Draco.”

“The right place for us properly.” _Where the hell was this coming from?_

“Listen to yourself!” Harry’s voice got slightly louder. He seemed annoyed. Good, at least something they shared. “Stop doing what you are doing to yourself.”

“Or what?” It was such a weird reply. Harry wasn’t even threatening him. But something started to boil in Draco. An old anger he had buried deep down. Buried and well hidden. “You are going to stop me? Like back then?”

“What do you mean?”

Draco didn’t answer but pulled his shirt up, revealing his stomach. Harry looked down. Draco could see by the slight change in expression, when Harry must have recognized the old wounds from the sectumsempra course. When Harry looked back up, he expected to see shame, surprise and pity, but Harry’s face was blank. He immediately grabbed Draco’s wrists, pulled his hands away from his stomach. The grip was strong. Draco could feel Harry’s anger through it. And it was painful.

“I know what you are doing.”

“Let me go,” Draco pulled at his arms, unsuccessfully.

“No, listen Draco.”

“The fuck- let me go, Potter!”

Harry finally loosened his grip and this was the second Draco took over. He had his hands on Potter’s shirt immediately, gripped the rough fabric and stepped forward, which automatically pushed Harry in the wall behind him. Draco could hear a small sounds of surprise escaping from his mouth.

“Don’t do this,” Draco spat the words. “Don’t touch me.” It was already the second time.

Draco starred in the taller man’s eyes, the noticed the slight smile on Potter’s face. He immediately pulled out his wand, pressed it against Harry’s throat. “I. am. serious!”

  
“Woah, woah,” Harry tried to lay his hands softly on Draco’s arms, to push him away. “I understand, ok.” Draco let go, stepped back and lowered his wand.

”Draco, I just – It was just good to talk to you, that’s all.” Harry spoke defensive, calm.

“Just … leave it, ok?” Draco finally said.

“Yeah, I understand.”

They starred at each other for a second. Draco was wondering if he was ever able to speak to people normally. If he would ever escape this state he was in. He knew he exaggerated, but in some moments everything felt hopeless. The universe had send him a potential friend, someone that Draco didn’t need any explaining to do, and Draco craved to mess it up. He broke the eye contact to Harry and starred back into his room. Why did he think working on dark artefacts, that his father had collected, would be a good idea? He was sitting in this room all day. All night even. He thought a hobby would help him to progress and to concentrate on something else instead of the war, but he was just lying to himself. Wherever he looked in this mansion, he saw traces of the dark Lord. Sometimes he saw movements in dark corners. Movements, that where hopefully only in his mind. He took an audible breath and wasn’t able to hear the low whispered “Draco?”

He has never been in this room before his father left. Only once. It was during the war. The Dark Lord was living here. Here in his _home_. Draco had been searching for his father. Knowing, that he has been in here quite often, Draco had passed by this room. Before he could enter, he heard the voice of his mother from the inside. She was crying. Draco could hear her shaking voice, but he could also hear the strength that his mother had always shown. Still, it broke his heart.

“He will kill him,” she had whispered.

“Hush, Narcissa. He will be fine,” his father spoke softly. Draco risked a glance into the room and saw him hugging his mom. Her whole body was shaking.

“He cannot kill him, you know that. Draco has a good heart.”

Draco snapped back into reality, but his heart sank into his stomach. A knot of fear in his chest started to suck away all his air. His world became blurry. He could hear his heart racing, his body suddenly sweating. The darkness in the corners of the room started to move and the room slowly began to spin. Was the floor moving? Why was he breathing so fast? Was there not enough air? Was he hexed?

Harry watched helplessly, how Draco stepped back until he hid a wall. His hands tried to grip on the wallpaper. “Draco?” he asked again, but as the times before, Draco didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure what was happening. Maybe he got into troubles with some of the ancient magic from the artefacts? But why now? Seeing Draco fall into panic erased all the anger in Harry. He only wanted to help. Harry stepped forward and grabbed Draco’s lower arms carefully to not cause another outburst as he caused mere seconds before. “Draco? Can you hear me? Look at me, please. I am trying to help.”

Harry could hear Draco’s breath. Fast and irregular. He let go of one of Draco’s lower arms to pull out his wand. With a quick spell he realized that Draco was not under the influence of any magical curse of force. He placed his wand away, now sure it was a panic attack Draco was dealing with.

“Look at me!” This time he used more force and indeed, Draco lifted his head and met his eyes. He immediately let go of his arms and grabbed his shoulders instead to stabilize him without threatening him. Harry felt helpless and insecure in this situation. Maybe it was best to leave. But he could not just leave Draco with this alone. He had read about panic attacks in books, but he couldn’t remember the right thing to do. So he tried what he felt best. “It’s ok. You’re ok, Draco. You are safe.”

Draco’s breathing was still fast, irregular. He at least looked in Harry’s face, but he wasn’t sure I Draco was able to understand his words.

“I can’t breathe,” Draco finally pressed out of his clenched teeth.

“Yes. Yes, You can. You are breathing, you are ok, Draco. It’s a panic attack. You are fine. It will be over in a minute or two.” Harry kept his hands steady on Draco’s shoulders. He tried to sound calm and confident to convince Draco that nothing will happen. He noticed the pain in Draco’s eyes and the sweat on his forehead. Draco lifted his hands up to grab the fabric on Harry’s lower arms. First he thought it’s a sign to let go of his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away, Draco just held on to him. Did his breathing get calmer?

“It’s ok,” Harry repeated before he loosened his grip and pulled Draco into a hug. Draco was still in shock. He was completely focused on himself, trying to calm down and to block out all his thoughts. In the back of his mind, he knew how awkward the hug was. That this would be something he would have never agreed on. But his mind and body were shaking. He accepted any form of comfort right now. Harry’s grip was strong. He had wrapped both of his arms around his back and pressed Draco against his chest. He could hear Harry’s breathing, partly as nervous as his own. It was … comforting. Draco couldn’t remember when he was hugged with such a strength and security. His breath calmed down. Harry must have felt it, because he let him go and took a step back.

“Sorry,” he said apologetically.

“I don’t need your pity,” he responded with a stronger voice. Draco felt extremely embarrassed and uneasy.

“That’s not what I meant. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you about the Patronus. That was imprudent.”

Draco took another deep breath. His heart rate was normal again, his breathing was steady and he didn’t feel the room shaking anymore. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Harry didn’t answer but exited the room first, closely followed by Draco. He brought him to his front door. “Well, see you, Potter.”

“Yes. Have a good day.”

  
Draco closed the door without another word.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. This was against everything he could have expected. He took a deep breath and removed the cold sweat from his forehead. He should take a shower. He felt embarrassed. Not just for having a panic attack in front of Harry Potter, but also for over-reacting when Harry reminded him, that he helped his family evading Askaban. He wasn’t sure what to make out of the hug. Draco had to admit Potter some credit for staying during his panic attack, after he had been so rude, but the hug was just unnecessary Gryffindor bullshit. It reminded him of the hug the dark Lord has given him. It still gives him the creeps every now and then. A tremor went through Draco’s body before he felt the urge to move. He went to take a shower before he would have a look at the new artefact, which Harry had brought.

***

It has been three days until he met Harry again. His thoughts had been with the Gryffindor ever since he left the Malfoy mansion. He came to terms with accepting that Harry had changed. That he seemed grown up. Draco had also accepted, that the war messed him up more than he would like to agree. As much as he felt uncomfortable remembering that Harry saw him in such a weak situation, he had to accept that Potter’s reaction did indeed calm him down and it had helped. Years ago, he probably would have made fun of him. He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted if Harry would have been the one with the panic attack, but most likely not as sincere as Harry. They met at the ministry. It was the same situation as before. Draco wanted to leave through the entrance doors, while Potter passed by. However, this time he was alone. He had stopped and greeted Draco. Draco took a heart and indeed apologized for pushing Harry up the wall.

“It’s ok. I may have been provoking you. My previous day was quite troublesome and so was the night.” Harry had replied casually.

Draco didn’t know what to answer. He was not really interested in Harry’s private life, but he also didn’t want to end the talk already. Luckily, Harry kept on talking.

“So, sorry also from my side. Also for loading my private troubles on you. I apparently didn’t had anyone to talk to,” he gave him a warm smile.

“What about that Weasly girl?”

“Ginny?”

Draco made a vague gesture. “Yes, her. People were talking about you marrying her.”

“Well,” Harry started. “It didn’t really work out. It was not real … love … or something. We are still friends, however.”

“Why not talking to her then?”

“Because everytime we meet she wants to make ‘happy’ memories. I am not allowed to bring up memories from the war or talk about anything related to that.”

“Oh,” Draco replied, understanding but not approving that rule. “The others? Granger and the Weasly boy?”

Harry gave him an annoyed glance, probably because Draco didn’t call anyone of his friends by their first names. “They got married, expecting a child. Their lives changed a lot. I meet them sometimes but don’t fit in anymore.”

Draco hummed. They both got silent for a few moments, before Harry asked about the latest artefact and Draco explained him the hidden magical mechanism, which he had solved. This casual talking went on for 2 more weeks. Harry brought him a few more artefacts or ran into him in the ministry or bakery. They talked for a few minutes, both avoiding any topic related to Hogwarts. The previously formed tension, that Draco had felt since the panic attack, got weaker and weaker before Draco was able to relax if they met.

Today, Draco did an evening walk. He had worked all day on a completely new and complex magical artefact. He wanted to start fresh tomorrow and needed to clear his lungs and mind from the heavy dust in his working room. It was not far from the old bakery, when someone crossed his road.

“Draco?” a way too familiar voice asked.

“Potter. Are you stalking me or are you really going to tell me you randomly passed by this street to this time of the night?” The bakery was closed. It was not that late, but the sun had already begun to set. It was a nice evening. The weather was quite warm and there was no rain. A rare occasion in London.

Harry laughed for a second, “Believe me, I have far more interesting things to do than stalking you.”

“Do you?” Draco raised an eyebrow in disbelieve. “Would have loved to hear that in sixth grade.”

Harry’s smile grew wider, “I know you liked the attention.”

Draco huffed.

“I was just doing a walk. I’m not staying far from here actually. Do you want to join?”  


Draco considered for a second, then decided to give it a shot. “Yeah, ok.”

“Ok,” Harry added awkwardly, before they started to walk in silence.

None of them spoke until they passed a relatively quiet pub. Harry hesitated then stopped. “Hey, do you want to grab a beer. It’s getting slightly cold.”

_It’s a warm night. _ Draco eyed him suspiciously, but while he was wearing a sweatshirt, Harry was just dressed in a black T-shirt. “I am not really drinking,” which was half a lie. He just didn’t go out for a long while.

“Really?”

  
“Yeah.”

“Drink a water?”

“Then your presence will be even more difficult to bear.”

Harry grabbed Draco’s arm, pulled him with him to the pup, “then beer it is.”  


Draco had no choice but to follow, surprised by the confidence Harry showed. “A bit egoistic, huh?” he mumbled loud enough for Harry to hear, but got no reaction. Harry’s grip wasn’t strong. He could have pulled away any second, but Draco told himself, that a real wouldn’t harm him would it?

They set down on a small table in the corner of the pub, ordered a beer, a second one only half an hour later and the third one in the same hour. They stayed for a little bit and talked. The talking got easier, the more they drunk. Harry had explained him, how he got his job, what he was actually doing at the ministry and if he still had contact to his old friends. Draco in return talked a little bit about the artefacts and about his mother. There was something fascinating about Harry. He radiated some sort of warmth and peace. With regard to all the things that had happened, he was still positive. And this feeling rubbed off on Draco. He remember the hug, a feeling of safety he hadn’t felt in years.

Draco wasn’t drunk when they left, but he definitely could feel the alcohol. Both of them walked instinctively through the night. A little bit tipsy on their feet and a little bit too loud with their voices. Draco felt at ease. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out and had a care-free evening. _Probably at Hogwarts._ The last minutes, they fell silent, just enjoying each other’s company. From time to time, their shoulders and arms accidentally brushed against each other, before Draco could feel Harry’s hand on his shoulder. A sign to stop. 

“I live here,” he pointed out. Draco wasn’t aware where they had been walking to and gave Harry a surprised glance.

“Do you want to stay? I have space for you to sleep here, if you want, of course.”

“I can apparate.”

“Yeah, not the best idea after four beer.”

“Three.”

“You had four.”

“Sorry if your basic maths already suffers after a few beers, but I drunk three.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry laughed, while unlocking the door, hesitating. “Want to come in on at least a water?”

Suddenly Draco was aware how thirsty he was. “Yeah, a water would be good. Then, I will walk home.”

Harry took a step inside and stopped in the hallway. Draco followed.

“Please,” Harry waved inside his house, gesturing Draco to pass him, so he could close the door behind them. Draco followed the gesture, but came to a halt when he was passing Harry.

The hallway was narrow, they nearly touched, when Draco stopped. Harry watched him, then let the door fall shut without moving away.

This felt normal. Nice. Draco was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of belonging somewhere, even if it was just with Potter. He had been lost the past 5 years. Harry was never his first choice of companion to spend his time with, but he had changed. They both had. Harry gave him a nervous smile, as if he could read his thoughts. _Can he? _There was some kind of tension between them, when they just starred at each other, searching for something they both didn’t know what it was. Draco lifted both of his hands in between them.

“Water?” Harry asked, voice slightly rough.

“Yeah,” Draco agreed.

Harry moved first, dissolving the tension and lead him through the long hallway deeper inside the house and then to the right. A quick spell enlightened a spacious kitchen. There was not much decoration. One moderate looking picture was hanging on one of the walls and a vase was holding long rotten flowers on the kitchen table.

“Wow,” Draco remarked sarcastically, while observing the plants. “Finally found something Harry Potter is not good at.”

Harry shot him a glance while trying to find two glasses in one of the kitchen cabinets, “Excuse me?”

“Taste,” he pointed out. “But why do I wonder?” Draco remembered that Harry owned a shirt that he was wearing through his whole school time. He would bet that the flowers stood here since he and the Weasly broke up. Exhilarated, Draco sat down on top of the table, feet casually hanging in the air.

“Come on now,” Harry said amused, while walking over to Draco to hand him a glass of water. “You walked around in a suit at Hogwarts.”

Draco just raised an eyebrow, as if there was nothing wrong with it, “I don’t see your point.”

Harry seemed unsure if Draco was sincere or making a joke.

“In your defense, it suited you,” Harry drank his water, stopped, chuckled about his own joke and drank the rest. Draco rolled his eyes, _by Merlin. He would have laughed at that even sober. _Still, was that a compliment? Draco studied Harry’s face and finished his water as well.

“Another one?” Harry took Draco’s glass and went back to the kitchen counter. In the meantime, he slid down from the table, but kept leaning against it.

“You know,” he started, when Harry handed him a new glass of water. The taller Gryffindor kept standing closely in front of him, eager for Draco’s words. “Sometimes I think you were quite obsessed with me.”

Harry huffed, “Maybe I was.”

Draco starred at him for a moment, “I am surprised how you’ve changed.” The words came out easier than he had expected. He was probably a little bit drunker than he’d like to admit.

“Are you?” Harry asked doubtfully. “I hope that’s meant to be a compliment.” He took off his glasses, stepped a little bit closer to place them on the table next to Draco. He was wearing the same cologne as he did a few weeks ago. The second he wanted to step back, Draco grabbed his lower arm and kept him close. By Merlin, what was he doing?

“What?”

Draco studied Harry’s eyes, placed his glass down without losing eye contact and without letting go and closed the small distance between them. He placed his lips on Harry’s. His body tensed immediately. Draco felt a flush creeping up to his entire chest accompanied by a tingling feeling on his lips and deep down in his stomach. Draco didn’t know what made him do this. Was the alcohol a good enough excuse? Or was it the craving need for touch and the need for a change in things. His life had been such a mess for the past 5 years. A mess in routine. But Harry had messed that up in a different way, in a good way. He wanted more of this. He wanted to feel anything but this dullness, he had felt for a while. Fuck, Draco was starving. He wanted more. Harry didn’t react, so Draco broke the kiss but stayed close.

“Ehm,” Harry managed. “Draco?”

“Mh?” he simply replied.

“You want this?”

“Intelligence is also not one of your strengths.”

“Well,” Harry began, carefully putting his glass down, “last time I found myself having your wand in my face.”

“You were horribly scared of me.”

“I was!”

“You should be, I am a Slytherin. Nothing your weak Gryffindor heart can take.” Maybe some things don’t change after all.

“Sure?” Harry lifted his hands and cupped Draco’s face. He stepped forward and forced Draco back to the table before he kissed him. Draco didn’t want to give in so easily, not that Harry would feel too confident. He grabbed his shirt in front of his chest and pressed back without breaking the kiss, but Harry understood what he was trying to do and braced himself. Harry kissed him with such a passion and intensity, that it stole Draco’s breath. Harry pressed a leg in between his. He couldn’t move back anymore, nor could he move to the front. Harry was all around him. Draco felt Harry’ body press on him to such an extent, that he felt intimidated. What irony.

He moaned in the kiss, the second when Harry lowered one arm, to slide it behind Draco’s back. To his surprise, Harry pressed him even closer to his own body. This was the moment Draco realized he was already half-hard. _Merlin. _He also realized that he wished to be a little bit drunker. Draco put a little bit more passion in the kiss, trying to get Harry to moan. But Draco was already so much run over by want, that he instinctively pressed his hips forward, to get some more friction, to _feel _if he was the only one half-hard. Harry finally groaned in the kiss and leaned slightly more forward. It took Draco’s balance. He felt like falling backwards and the only thing holding him was Harry’s grip. The other stabilized him with the arm behind his back and one in his neck. He felt horribly defenseless. _What a bastard. _

Harry broke the kiss, and created a small gap in between them, just to grab Draco’s hips and push him on top of the table. He stepped in between the others legs, before he placed his right hand in Draco’s hair and slightly pulled. Draco got the hint and laid his head back, exposing his neck. He placed kisses on the pale skin and could feel how Draco placed his hands on his back to dig his fingers into his shirt. He was unbelievably fascinated how much his touch could cause in Draco. How his whole body reacted. He could feel the muscles tense, the skin showing goosebumps and Draco’s breath hitch. He craved for more. The hand, that was still lingering on Draco’s hip moved to his thigh, stroking the leg underneath his pants. The next time he moved his lips to a new place, he bit the skin, drawing a suppressed moan from Draco. Draco’s hands found Harry’s T-Shirt hem und pulled it slightly up to slip his hands underneath. He wanted Draco to touch him, to feel his skin. He had watched his delicate fingers tracing over the new artefacts he had brought and had wondered, how they must feel on his skin. Harry leaned into the touch, bold now that Draco showed a little bit more forthcoming. His own hand moved over his leg, touched the inside of his thigh before he moved upwards and pressed slightly on Draco’s crotch. He was already hard. It drew a short sound of amusement paired with disbelieve from Harry’s lips.

“Fuck you-“ Draco whispered annoyed. Their lips met again. For a few moments their hands held still, both merely focused on the kiss. Then, Draco got rid of Harry’s T-short, before the taller man took off Draco’s sweatshirt likewise. Harry’s hands traced over Draco’s body. He was surprised by the fine muscles. His fingertips traced his rips, his hipbones, before he opened the button of his black pants. He pushed Draco back, forcing him to lay down on the wooden table. The kiss broke, but Harry directly went on kissing the pale skin below him. He felt Draco’s legs wrapping around his hips in return.

Draco closed his eyes, when a tremor went through his body. Harry worked his way down, kissing biting and sucking on his skin, before he grabbed his pants and pulled them just so slightly down that his cock was exposed. He knew what would come. Harry teased him, kissed the skin of his lower stomach, planted kisses on his hip, while one hand was moving over his inner thigh.

“You do this on purpose,” he winced and placed one hand in Harry’s hair to press his head further down. Harry scuffed and Draco could feel that he traced his tongue over his shaft. “By Merlin-“ he closed his eyes and moaned. Harry gave him what he wanted. While he still had a little bit of doubt left when they started to make out, every last trace of regret left him now. Harry was good at what he was doing, Draco couldn’t but move under this touch. Lifting his hip to get more. He couldn’t move much, as he needed to wrap his legs around Harry. He was too close to the edge of the table to put his feet down.

“Harry-“ he said breathless, when he got so close.

“Mh, now you can call me by my first name. Didn’t expect that it needed this-“

“Or-“, Draco bit on his lip to not moan that load. “You’d have done it earlier?”

Harry chuckled and went on for a few more moments, before he kissed his stomach and came to a halt. Draco lifted his head, met his eyes. Harry’s lips showed a deep red, his eyes were so intense, that Draco looked away. Was there a silent question if he could move on? By Merlin, he was so aroused and so close that he actually didn’t think of how this was going to progress. “I,” he started, “have never done this.”

Harry smiled, “Me neither.”

“Really?” Hs voice was hoarse, dripping from lust.

“Yeah,” Harry placed a new kiss on Draco’s stomach.

“Thought you slept your way up in Hogwarts.”

Harry laughed shortly, but gripped Draco’s dick a little bit too hard with his hand, “Wrong position for saying this now.”

Draco moaned loudly half surprised and half in pain and maybe a little bit in arousal. Thankfully, Harry stopped immediately, pulled him upwards and then off and away from the table. He steered him gently towards the wooden bench next to the table. Harry sat down and pulled Draco on top of him. His pants were a little bit in the way, but Draco didn’t want to be the only one completely undressed.

They watched each other for a second, before Harry smiled, cupped Draco’s face and kissed him again. Draco’s hands finally found their way to his own pants and exposing his cock. Harry’s hands traced over Draco’s back, feeling all the scars from the sectumsempra curse knowing that you cannot heal that kind of scars ever. He regretted it. Horribly. A moan escaped him, when Draco started to massage his dick in such a talented way, that he couldn’t believe Draco was the first time with a guy. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he thought Harry was going to take him and he only had been a top before. His thoughts vanished the next second. He was extremely aroused, by the touch, but also by touching Draco. This felt forbidden but so right at the same time. His fingers dug into Draco’s skin, making the other move slightly, bending under his touch. He needed to breathe. “I’m close,” he whispered against Draco’s neck, placing a wet kiss there, before he pressed him even closer. 

“Already?” But Draco’s voice was low, hoarse, revealing that he must be as close as Harry. He could feel how Draco wrapped both of his hands around their dicks, working on them simultaneously. Harry had to admit that it felt weird for a second, but there was no place for weirdness right now. Whatever Draco did, it was good. When he was getting close, Harry grabbed Draco’s face with both hands to force him in a messy kiss. He came first, moaning in the kiss without breaking it. His hands automatically found Draco’s hips again, as he tried to press him even closer. Their chests were already touching, but he wanted more. More of Draco. Draco came a few moments after him, voice low, not as loud as Harry. He broke the kiss to throw his head in his neck and Harry tried to burn this image into his mind, before he pulled him into a tense hug. He needed to calm down for a second. Or a minute.

Harry wasn’t sure how long the stayed like this, but once his breath had calmed down, he reached for his wand, which was still in his pocket, to clean them with a quick spell. Draco started to move, get out of the hug and off of him. Harry reacted immediately and grabbed his left underarm. “Wait,” he pleaded. “Don’t leave.” He wasn’t even sure if Draco was going to leave or just wanted to get up.

Draco just looked at him without saying a word.

“Listen, Draco, It’s in the middle of the night, you’re still too drunk to apparate. Just stay the night. Sleep, eat something in the morning and then leave.”

Draco seemed to consider, “I actually feel quite sober.” His gaze dazed off into the room.

“We aren’t children anymore,” Harry added, as Draco was still silent.

  
Draco’s gaze turned back towards him. The light was too dim to fully read the emotions on his face. “Why would it matter to you, Potter?”

“Because I care for you.”

“Yeah, right. ‘Cause you care for everyone, you are-“

“I don’t sleep with everyone, ok?” Harry knew what Draco had wanted to say. He managed to free his arm out of his grip with a small, fast pull, but didn’t walk away.

Draco was honestly too tired to go home. All he wanted was to fall asleep on a soft bed, but he felt uneasy. He didn’t want to share a bed with Potter. I was a different kind of intimacy, that he was not willing to give yet. On the contrary, he didn’t want to ask for another room with a single bed or couch for himself. That would be quite childish. He shot Harry a considering look. “Fine, I will stay the night,” he said.

Harry smiled. He offered him some of his clothes for the night, but Draco was fine by sleeping in his sweatshirt and boxer shorts. He showed him a bed large enough for two people. Did he spend his nights with Ginny here? Was he maybe gay all along and that’s why it didn’t work out for him? Draco could feel the fatigue in his bones when he finally laid down. The bed was soft and warm, welcoming. Harry kept a small distance between them, which Draco approved. “You know,” he said sleepily. “People talked.”

“Mh?” Harry sounded as tired as he was.

“At Hogwarts. Had several people asking me, if there was something going on with you.”

“What do you mean ‘going on’?”

Draco stayed silent. He couldn’t be that stupid.

“Oh,” Harry said after a minute. “Oh. They did?”

“Yes.”

“Well, was there something going on with me?” he asked amused, already half asleep.

“Good night, Harry,” Draco finished this talk.

***

Three weeks passed since this evening. Draco had closed himself off in his work room, feeling confused about his own actions, but he couldn’t deny how good it had felt to feel another person so close to him. He needed some time to order his thoughts, to accept and to decide what he wanted. He had troubles putting behind the fact, that the person he felt drawn to was Harry Potter. Harry didn’t pass by his mansion for one week, before he suddenly showed up due to work reasons. No word was shared about that night. Another week had passed, when Harry accidently met Draco on his way to the Ministry. They had walked together, mostly silent, but Draco had realized that he wasn’t bothered by silence and by Harry as much as he wished to.

Today they had met in front of the bakery. Accidentally. Harry had asked if he wanted to grab a coffee with him and spend half an hour in the close by park. It was a Sunday, they had time. Now, they were sitting on a bench in silence.

“You know what I have been thinking about recently?” Harry finally started a conversation.

  
“Enlighten me.”

“The Patronus artefact. Did you try it again?”

Draco looked at him, for the first time since they sat down. “No,” he admitted honestly. He was sure that he wouldn’t be able to summon a Patronus, however, he thought after a while, maybe he was on a good way.


End file.
